


Smarties

by anemptymargin



Category: Paul (2011)
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-24
Updated: 2011-04-24
Packaged: 2017-10-18 14:49:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemptymargin/pseuds/anemptymargin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul stole Clive’s American Smarties, but left something that could be worse behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smarties

**Author's Note:**

> Written after my third viewing, first in the fandom for me but I’m likely to write more… if nothing to continue with this idea. So many thanks are due to [Missy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy) & [GypsyJr](http://archiveofourown.org/users/GypsyJr/pseuds/GypsyJr) for cheerleading and beta work and fangirling with me!

They rode into town with Agent Zoil, Lorenzo they had to remind each other, in relative ease – knowing full and well there was nothing anyone could say to put any more perspective on what had just transpired. Clive sat in the front, catching glimpses of the apparent couple in the rear view until he settled on staring blankly out the open window at the passing night sky. Nothing would ever be the same. Somewhere out there, Paul was sitting back in a real space ship – probably sorting things out just like they would be.

Absently, Clive dug into his jeans pockets for a small roll of Smarties he’d tucked away on a whim – amused at how different they were from the tube of chocolates he liked to nibble on back home. Instead, he happened upon a small square of paper folded in half.

 __

Just tell him, you’ll feel better.

There was no signature, but he didn’t even need to think to know the hand that had slipped the sloppy note in his pocket. He could almost hear Paul’s voice bouncing around in his head; “Sometimes you just gotta roll the dice.” Easier said than done.

At the hotel, the group had narrowed back down to three – and Clive knew he was the odd man out. Graeme handed him a room key and Clive joked when he opened the door; “Oh no, Graeme – you’ve given me Ruth’s key.”

“You know they’re both singles, Clive.” Graeme responded with a nervous smile. “I’m… uh, I’m sharing with Ruth tonight.”

“I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” Ruth grinned wide, hooking her arms around Graeme’s waist – her fingertips already slipping in his jeans.

“Yeah, right… almost forgot you’re keen to get onto that intercourse you’ve been on about.” Clive raised an eyebrow and turned away. “Have fun.”

“Clive...” Graeme’s voice softened and Clive felt the brush of his friend’s hand on his elbow.

“Goodnight, Graeme.” Clive didn’t turn back, didn’t want to turn back even. Instead he let himself into the room, drew a bath, and let himself drift away in the warm tub.

***

“So… this is it, then?” Ruth smiled, watching as Graeme stripped off his bloody shirt.

“I guess so.” Graeme laughed; running his palms over his chest – acutely remembering the agony of a shotgun blast to the chest… he sure wouldn’t look at Resident Evil quite the same. “I mean, not ‘it’ but… getting there. I suppose.”

“Are you nervous?” She tugged off her t-shirt and shook her head, hair falling across her naked shoulders.

He let out a clearly nervous chuckle and fished a fresh condom from his wallet after struggling out of his jeans, quite glad for the convention tradition. “A little bit, yeah… it’s… it’s not like I do this every day. Least not with a girl around.”

She echoed his laugh, biting her lower lip when he sat on the bed in his boxers. “Clive’s not upset, is he?”

“Oh, him? No… no. He’s just had a long day. We’ve all had a long day.” Graeme forced a smile, pushing back the fact that he was pretty sure Clive was at least a little upset.

She nodded slowly and leaned in, kissing him hard. He froze for a moment, slowly warming to her touch, letting her hands caress his chest even as he pulled her down on the bed with him. “So we’re really doing this?” She giggled.

“Yeah.” He licked his lips, kissing her again. “Unless you don’t… you know…”

“I so do.” She grinned, letting out an aggressive growl before pushing down the waistband of his boxers – exposing his semi-hard cock. “And so do you… mmm…”

“Oh! God…” He gasped, letting out a shrill giggle, “Easy… easy… let’s just take it slow…”

“I thought that was my line.” She quirked an eyebrow, wrapping her fingers around the shaft.

“You can’t just… grab it.”

“Well, tell me what to do.” She squeezed gently, experimentally pulling towards her as they snuggled closer, chest to chest.

He let out another mewling gasp, and then grasped her wrist and guided her eager hand to the slight curve of his hip. “Don’t… touch it. Probably for the best… don’t want to set it off so soon.”

“Set it off?”

“Yeah…” He blushed, kissing down her chin and over her shoulder while his free hand traced over her hip – catching the waistband of her cotton knickers. “I sometimes… you know… I… I don’t do this often and sometimes get a bit… over excited.”

Still appearing confused, but taking his word for it, she followed his guidance.

***

Clive waved his hand slowly under the cooling water, letting the small ripple of a wave crash against his belly only to follow it with several more. Everything was wrong; he wasn’t supposed to be alone. They were supposed to be spending the night in an RV… just them… less than twenty-four hours away from flying back home and forty-eight hours away from returning to their regular jobs and regular lives. Instead, he’s alone in some bloody hotel room in the middle of nowhere while Graeme’s off with his girlfriend doing who knows what. Well, not really ‘who knows what’ – he’s pretty sure that he knows with some accuracy what they’re doing despite not actually being present.

He looked over to where he’d refolded the small note on top of his dirty jeans on the closed lid of the toilet. “Bloody Paul. Bloody fucking Paul and his wisdom, what does he know?” Clive muttered to the empty room, leaning his head back against the tile wall and closing his eyes. “Don’t know anything.”

It wasn’t true, he knew it too – but it sounded better to swear at Paul than himself. Paul knew everything, of course; he hadn’t even had to say a word. In fact, even saying the exact opposite hadn’t meant a thing. Apparently it was obvious to everyone but the one person it should have been most obvious to.

Frustrated, he slapped his open palm against the tepid water – his fingers gone wrinkly and pale. It would be much easier to hate Paul if he wasn’t most likely right. He’d been putting it off for years just because he didn’t want things to change. If Graeme knew, who knows what he’d do. He might be angry, maybe even move out of their shared flat – maybe even not want to be his best mate anymore. It didn’t seem likely, but one never knew anymore – in a world where a rude alien could change everything he ever knew anything is possible.

Maybe in the morning it would be easier.

***

Ruth moaned loudly, arching her back as she rocked gently against Graeme’s hips – riding him slow and much easier than expected. “Oh god…” She whined, biting into her lower lip, shuddering hard.

“Are you all right? I’m not hurting you?” Graeme groaned, toes curled in the blanket bunched at the foot of the bed as he tried his best to think about anything other than getting off.

“No… god… no… good…” She panted harder with each gentle thrust of Graeme’s hips. She didn’t know if it was what she had pictured, she hadn’t really pictured much of anything… only that it was amazing and a bit more messy than expected.

“Oh god, Ruth… god…” Graeme closed his eyes tighter, balling his fists in the sheets. “I’m… we… maybe you should…”

“Shh…” She stroked her palms hard up Graeme’s chest, grinding down suddenly against his pelvis as she felt his body tighten underneath her. “Your chest is all pink… it’s adorable…”

Graeme let out a low whimper, giving one last hard thrust upward as he came, “I’m sorry… sorry, god Ruth…”

“Mmm… don’t be sorry!” She murmured, slowly lowering herself to lie out on top of him. “That… that was it, right?”

He wasn’t sure if he should be mortified or relieved… exhausted and spent, Graeme let out a nervous chuckle. “Um… ah… well, for me. I mean… you didn’t, did you?”

“I don’t know.” She smiled, kissing his chin. “I’ve never felt anything like it…”

“I don’t think you did.” Graeme sighed. “Here… on your back… let me…”

She shook her head, blonde hair spilling across his shoulder and tickling his face. “No, no. It’s good.” She let out a soft yawn, following it with another kiss just below his ear. “I want to go shower. You should try and talk to Clive.”

“He’s probably asleep by now…”

“I don’t know, I think he misses you.”

“He can’t miss me, he just saw me.”

***

Clive tucked himself into the too-large bed, leaving his dressing gown in a heap at the end before curling up under the covers. It was strange, to be going to bed alone. Even in their flat Graeme’s bedroom door was just a few strides away from his own. No matter how late it was when he got in from work, Graeme never failed to come in and say goodnight have a bit of a cuddle before going to his own bed. The hotel room just felt still, silent… lonely.

He’d nearly drifted off when he heard the soft knock at the door. “Clive? Clive, you still up?”

Nearly tumbling to the floor, Clive rolled out of bed and made it to the door in double time. “Yeah, yeah… gimme a sec…” He muttered through the door, opening it.

Graeme flashed a broad smile when the door opened, pulling his fluffy white dressing gown tighter around him. “Hey, hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No, not at all.” Clive shook his head, quite suddenly realizing he’d answered the door in just his pants. It wasn’t as though Graeme hadn’t seen everything already, but it still felt weird given the new situation. Muttering under his breath, he retrieved his damp robe from the bed.

“You don’t have to do that; I’ve seen it all mate.” Graeme chuckled, closing the door and then inviting himself to sit on Clive’s bed. “Erm, anyway… thought I might come sit with you a bit.”

Clive paused, still holding the robe as he considered his friend’s words. Figuring it for the best, he put it on anyway and then joined him on his usual side. “You don’t have to… I know you and Ruth are probably… you know… itching to have a go of it.”

Graeme laughed loudly, his cheeks flushed bright pink. “We… erm. We already did. That. You know, it.”

“You had sex.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” Clive couldn’t help but smile, feeling only the slightest bit bad about it. Clearly things hadn’t gone well… it’d been less than an hour. “Went all right?”

“I guess. You know… we… we didn’t really.” He let out a frustrated groan, turning onto his side to face Clive just as he had Ruth not too long previous. “It was odd.”

“But you did it, right?”

“Yes, of course we did.” His laugh was forced, uncomfortable. “I mean, my convention condom has been put to good use.”

“Right.” Clive lowered his eyes, focusing on Graeme’s hands as they nervously knit themselves together. “How was it?”

Graeme licked his lips, trying to find the right words. Finally he managed; “Better than my first time. At least she didn’t cry.”

Clive giggled slightly, feeling the knot of tension begin to unwind. “In your defense I would have cried… I know the girl you lost it to.”

“Hey… Sarah’s not a bad sort…”

“No, she’s great for the sort of girl that could break your spine if you look at her the wrong way.”

Graeme laughed unexpectedly, his hands slowly unknotting themselves to grasp for Clive’s subconsciously. “Now that you mention it, though… I don’t think I ever met the girl you lost it to.”

Clive chuckled, managing to look his friend in the eyes once more as Graeme’s fingers closed over top of his. He thought of the note Paul had left and everything that had been held back and wondered if it wasn’t somehow engineered that he’d be put in a position to either own up to the truth or outright lie about it. “Did… erm… did you happen to have a little note, in your pocket?”

Confused, Graeme raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Paul.” Clive’s smile faltered slightly, “He left a note, in my pocket… and I think he took my Smarties.”

“We’ll get more before we go.”

“It’s okay, I don’t even want them.” Clive chuckled under his breath, he’d not managed to actually eat any but wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“They’re everywhere… I’m sure it wouldn’t be an issue…”

“Forget about the Smarties, all right?”

“All right, fine… so there was a note?”

“Yeah, from Paul.”

“Okay.” Graeme nodded slowly, nudging his head into the pillow. “You’re changing the subject… was it that girl you used to work with when you started at the book shop, the one with the squint? I know she fancied you…”

“No!” Clive sighed. “Listen.”

“I am listening.”

He opened his fingers slightly, letting Graeme’s knuckles intertwine with his. Clive knew they looked awfully silly holding hands like school children but it felt right for them… always had. “You’re not.”

“Listening face, Sausage.” Graeme offered up the most serious look he could muster despite being horribly sleepy. “Paul’s note… said something?”

“It said that I should tell you something.”

“Right…”

“Something you don’t know about me.” Clive swallowed hard, squeezing Graeme’s hands.

Graeme didn’t respond at first and seemed to be searching Clive’s face for some sort of clue as to how serious he should take the remark. “Come on, I’ve known you forever… I know your toilet schedule!”

“It’s not a toilet thing, Graeme. It has nothing to do with my bodily functions.”

“I was just saying…”

“Graeme, I’m gay.” Clive stated matter-of-factly, looking him directly in the eyes as he awaited his friend’s reaction.

Graeme’s mouth twitched, and then he smiled slightly and said; “You’re not. You’re taking the piss – not very well…”

“I mean it. And there’s more.” He paused, only to be cut off.

“What? You’re in love with me?” Graeme’s smile spread, only to drop when Clive turned his head to look away. “Oh god. You’re in love with me.”

Clive sighed and closed his eyes, pulling his hands away to cover his face.

An awkward moment dragged out between them as Graeme attempted to process the pieces, everything slowly falling into place as though it had always been just beyond the edges of his brain. “Are you? I mean, really?”

“It’s confusing.” Clive muttered loudly, digging his fingertips against his eyes. “I didn’t mean to be, I never just sat down and said; ‘Today I’m going to pick the person I fall in love with – oh, that works!’ or anything.”

“No, no… this is just… are you sure? I… I mean, I can’t even picture you as gay. I think I would have noticed that…”

“It’s not like I have to wear a sign or something!” Clive sighed loudly, rolling on to his back with his hands folded on his belly. “I mean… all right – how many girls do you know of that I’ve slept with?”

Graeme tried to count them in his head, but didn’t pull up much. “That doesn’t mean anything… I’ve only just now had four.”

“How many, Graeme?”

“I dunno… two? Three?”

“There’s been one.”

“Only one? The ewok?”

“Wasn’t a girl.”

“No.” Graeme’s voice dropped to a whisper; “But… you said…”

“I know what I said, all right? I didn’t want you to know.”

“But why would you say that? You know I don’t care… you know you don’t have to hide things from me.” Graeme reached out and tentatively rested his hand on top of Clive’s once more. “You’re my best friend, Clive… I don’t care if you’re gay. That’s a stupid thing to care about.”

“I didn’t want you to know because you’re not gay, Graeme.”

“So?”

“So? So I only figured it out because… because…” Clive sighed again, following it with a loud whine. “Because of you.”

“Me? What did I do?”

“Just you… being you and doing what you do.” Clive grumbled, “I couldn’t tell you because it would be like this.”

“Like what?” Graeme responded in all innocence, thoroughly confused.

“Awkward and uncomfortable. I mean, what do you say to someone you’ve known as long as I’ve known you? ‘Oh, I’m gay and I love you and I know that nothing I could ever do will change the fact that you’re very clearly not interested and if I ever did say something it would ruin everything we worked so hard to build up.’ Yeah… that works out well.” Clive shook his head, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m only saying it now because bloody Paul seems to think you need to know about the sort of thing that goes on in my head.”

Graeme tried again to process all the new and honestly unexpected information. In a way, it did make sense… but it felt somehow wrong still. He needed to work it out, but knew all too well that he had to say something. “I didn’t know.”

“I know.”

“No, I mean… I had no idea. None. None at all. Why didn’t I know?”

“I lied.”

“I can read you like a book, Clive. You’ve never been able to lie to me. Not even when you thirteen and tried to steal my Han Solo and brought him back the next day because you felt guilty and thought I’d never know.”

“I’m not a teenager anymore.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“So you’re telling me that I’m wrong?” Clive laughed incredulously, “That I’m not gay and haven’t been in love with you for the last ten years?”

“I never said that.”

“You did!”

“I said that it can’t be that I didn’t know this. I… I must have known.”

“This is stupid. I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Clive muttered under his breath, covering his face again. “I think I’ll go die now…”

“Don’t be stupid. It’s not that embarrassing.”

“You’re not the one baring their secrets.”

“Oh come off it, Clive. It’s no big deal.”

“Oh, not a big deal. Right then. Get out!” He shouted suddenly, turning his head to offer up a dark glare. “Get out of my room. Now.”

“Stop being a child.”

“I said ‘get out!’” He yelled even more loudly, getting out of bed before pointing toward the door. “I don’t even want to deal with this right now, just go.”

“We should probably talk about this, Clive.”

“Oh, so you can lament that you didn’t know?”

“No, so we can figure out what’s going on here.” Graeme retorted quietly, already rising up out of the hotel bed. “Maybe make some sense of things…”

“Get out, Graeme. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Well… all right, then…” Graeme sighed, stepping close to hug his friend only to be given the cold shoulder. “Night, Sausage…”

“Good night, Graeme.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.


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